Tales from Gotham
by Croclover95
Summary: A collection of stories from Gotham and it's inhabitants. Stories will follow most of the cast but mainly Alfred, Bruce, Selena, Bullock, and Gordon.(Will try to update every two weeks, so as to both maintain a consistent update time and ensure quality stories)
1. The Wayne child

**Howdy! Welcome to my first attempt at a Gotham one-shot. I've been watching the show since it first aired and I've absolutely fallen in love with it. I have really enjoyed this rendition of Alfred Pennyworth, as I do not think there are many films that quite do justice to Alfred's military background and effect on Bruce Wayne's up bringing. I decided my first one shot would be set with Alfred. Pardon me if I have made a mistake in his character. Leave a review and tell me what you think. This may become a series of one shots or it may be a stand alone, depending on my given time to write.**

With that, let's get this show on the road!

The rain from earlier that morning had given way to a bout of bright sun shine, as tends to happen frequently in Gotham. The glare from the wet roads in the sunlight was not particularly bad, however, and Alfred was able to drive without the need for the sunglasses in the compartment just above the rear view mirror. Just as well, as he we was not particularly fond of them.

Navigating the streets, he replayed the conversation he had with Bruce before dropping him off for school over in his head. The boy was smart, and sharp as a tack, but he needed to have time with other children to develop the people skills that would be required if he were to pick up where his parents had left off. Learning things like mathematics and proper english was important, Alfred knew, and quite necessary for life. But so were social skills, which he would not acquire if he kept himself locked in as he had been doing.

Beyond the need, however, to grasp both social and academic skills so as to become a professional in the field in which he would work, was the need for the boy to heal. He had stopped his self inflicted injuries, but he still had reason to be concerned for him. While tidying his desk, he had found some of the music he had been listening to, along with the various drawings he had made. Despite his appearance of recovering, he was still had so far to go. Making new friends, perhaps even garnering a fancy to someone special, might do the lad some good. In fact, this was the core reason he had sent him back, to give him a chance at reclaiming some degree of normality.

" _Don't you want to be like a normal kid?" Alfred asked, after a brief exchange with Bruce on why he should be there. The boy paused at the question, staring out as he pondered the question._

" I'm not sure." He replied, seeming confused on something. He then looked Alfred in the eye and asked with such sincerity that it baffled the butler." Define "normal" and make a good case for it."

" _You're going to bloody school." He said, his exasperation showing through in his firmer tone of voice. He then commanded,"Now start walking." With reluctant obedience, the boy proceeded to ascend the stairs, taking a brief glance back before finishing the ascent up the stairs and into the school._

" Good luck lad." Alfred said when the boy was out of ear shot, a tinge of pity and sadness in his voice, the realization of just how hard this was going to be now sinking in to the butler

Alfred shook his head at the memory, realizing he had reached his location and had not realized it. Shutting the car off, he stepped out and took a deep breath. The Gotham cemetery didn't have many visitors, as most people felt no need to visit the dead. Alfred proceeded to walk up the hill, passing the array of tomb stones and memorials. His destination came into sight as he crested the top of the hill, making his way toward one tomb stone that stuck out to him among a sea of graves. He stopped at the foot of it:

_Thomas Wayne & Martha Wayne  
>Architects of hope to those of Gotham<br>Resurgam_

"Good morning, Master Tom." He paused, unsure of what to say next. " I should like to inform you that master Bruce has been safely dropped off at school." He let a small half smile cross his face," The lad was rather reluctant, took him a while just to step out of the car," He let a brief laugh escape him recalling the memory," he was about to pull out a statistic on homeschooling, try and get out of going."

Alfred shook his head, his hands held behind his back and his posture giving signs of his military background. He smiled and stared out at the city, thinking about his and Bruce's time together in recent weeks." He's a sharp one, that lad. Highly analytic, and quite curious." He found himself giving a short chuckle, before the smile on his face began to fall." He's even asked for the files of Wayne enterprises. Been pouring over them near day and night... trying to see why..."

The butler breathed deeply, both thinking of how to explain everything and wondering why he was explaining this to them. They were dead, they couldn't hear him talking, they couldn't see the pain and sadness of their son. And still, he felt compelled to bring this to them.

" Bloody hell, he's been trying to find out why someone wanted you dead." He stated, sadness weighing heavily on his voice and staring back out into the city." He's doing these stupid things, climbing the roof and standing on the edge, and when I've asked him about it he says he's learning to conquer fear." His gaze returned to their grave," He's been listening to this atrocious music and drawing ghastly pictures and hiding them in his desk so I won't see them. He's shut himself up in the manor, hardly talks to anyone except me and detective Gordon." He thought for a moment, recalling the mans dedication to solving the case, despite the department closing it when Mario Pepper was framed. He was a good man, and Bruce needed another good influence, but work took him away so often that he hardly had time to visit him.

"Gordon is a good man, but he's been... delayed quite heavily, and the department closed the case. So, Master Bruce has taken it upon himself to solve it." He shook his head sadly, a brief sigh in his words as he continued." On top of it all, I've pulled myself in with him." He blinked hard for a moment, thinking of the events that had transpired in so short a time." I asked him if he wanted to be like a normal kid, and he asks me for a bloody definition, and to make a case for it." A short, grim laugh escaped his lips at the thought of his words." I've never raised a child, master Tom, but I'm smart enough to know that master Bruce, all things that he is, will never be a normal child."

And it was this thought, the thought of a child's innocence and any chance at normality being stripped away from him, that broke Alfred's heart the most. When he joined the army, he had been a young buck, but nevertheless an adult. He had seen truly horrifying things, but he had learned to deal with them, because that was what grown ups were supposed to do. How is a child, barely even a teenager, supposed to handle these things? How was he supposed to handle the nightmares of his mother and father murdered in front of him, night by night? How was he to deal with calling to his mother and father late at night only to realize they will never answer again? Or the complete loneliness that accompanies the realization? How was he supposed to handle the earth shattering fear of seeing the same killer in his dreams, always aiming the gun, always about to deliver the final round before leaving him in his own misery and grief?

The sadness Alfred felt gave way to a new emotion, his fists clinched and knuckles turning white. This was not sadness: this was anger. Anger that a man would steal a child of the loving presence of parents who loved him. Anger at the thought of corrupt officials who refused to finish a case they knew was not closed. Anger that no one, save Gordon, thought to give a damn about the now alone child who would be forced to tackle life's challenges without his parents support, and forced to grow up before he was ready.

This was the anger that drove Alfred, the anger that made him say the next words to his late Masters," Rest assured, Master Wayne," He began, his voice trembling with rage and grief that surged through his veins." Bruce may not grow up to be a normal child..." His voice turned from trembling rage to steely determination." But you can be for damn sure that he will grow to be a Wayne child. One whom you would look at and beam with pride." He walked up to the stone and placed his hand on it." Rest well, master Tom, and you, master Martha."

He walked away from the grave sight, his fists clinched again in steely determination. He would hold true to his word, and he would raise a child that Thomas and Martha would be proud to call their son. He would crawl out of this muck and mar he had gone through, and the dark of night that once hid a boy would be replaced by the light of day revealing a man. He had many troubles ahead, and they would all be difficult. But he would overcome them all.

He would be a Wayne, and that was something no bastard with a gun would ever take away from him.

"_The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it." John 1:5_


	2. Ruthless

**Hey all! Decided I would indeed make this a one shot series. I don't know how long it will last, although probably as long as my inspiration from the show continues, but nevertheless we'll have fun with it! This one is a bit longer, and I was inspired by both episodes 9 and 10 and the interplay between Bruce and Selena. These two in particular have done a phenomenal job of portraying their characters, and I eagerly await their return in the last half of season 1. Just to give you a heads up, I am working on a full story, and may have the first chapter up soon, so keep an eye out for it!  
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**But e****nough talk, let us begin  
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"Jab, jab, right."

Selena twitched. Those same annoying words she heard again from the rooftop of Wayne manor. It was shortly after breakfast, which had resulted in a rather spirited food fight that was spurred on by Selena's challenge to Bruce to hit her so as to win a kiss. The result was a few broken glasses, some orange juice on the table and carpet, and food on the boys clothes. Despite some close calls, she had managed to avoid being hit, and was thus saved the need for a cleanup. Bruce, on the other hand, had bits of muffin, bread, and fruit covering him.

They would have went on, had they not run out of "ammo" just before the boys butler came in. They froze for a moment after they had seen him, as they expected him to be furious. However, to their surprise, he just smiled at the two before clearing his throat and asking," Right, will that be all or are seconds in order?" Selena and Bruce both were stunned, and apparently Bruce was too afraid to push his luck and decided they were finished, much to her disappointment. They helped tidy up, picking up a bits of broken glasses and sweeping up the bits of food that were strewn about. After they were done, Bruce went to his room to change, while Selena decided to head onto the roof for a bit.

She lay there, staring at the clouds, lost in her own thoughts when she heard the familiar words of the butler,"Jab, jab, right."

Disturbed from her day dreaming, she rose to a crouch and moved to a vantage point to see Bruce and the butler on the verandah behind the manor.

"Keep your guard up, son." The man said, giving him a firm tap on the head. The boy had a knack for leaving down his guard after his right, which could prove potentially fatal if he missed his punch, as Alfred had shown many times. As they repeated the punches, she noticed, Bruce began to get the swing of things. He was beginning to keep his guard up, his punches were a bit faster and better placed. He even managed to weave out of a tap or two on the head and made a counter punch that surprised both the butler and Cat.

She noticed that something was a bit different, though. His punches seemed a bit more aggressive, and his countenance was a bit more fierce. Occasionally, he took an extra swing before the butler was ready, getting a nice knock in return.

Things came to a head when the older man was about to call it a day, and the boy tried to take another punch, blocked only a fraction of a second before it could connect with his sternum.

"Oi!" He cried,"That's enough, lad!" She saw Bruce lower his guard a bit," What's the matter with you, boy? That's the fourth time you've sneaked a punch!"

Bruce was quiet at first."I was hitting you while you weren't prepared." He replied, puzzling both Selena and the butler.

"Well, I can bloody see that." Alfred snapped, beginning to remove his gloves," The question is, why?"

Bruce paused, letting his guard down completely. Selena watched with great interest, as the boy looked unsure of what to say. What was he doing? Was he angry about something? He didn't seem it, he was particularly happy this morning. She didn't have to wonder long, as his next words answered her question.

"I'm learning to be ruthless."

There it was. In an instant she recognized the words that came out of the young boys mouth. She remembered clearly, Bruce's sopping wet form climbing out of the pool, training himself to be disciplined and strong. Admirable, she had told him, but ineffective. It wasn't enough to be disciplined or strong: one had to be ruthless. On the streets, no one cared whether you had boxed or how long you could hold your breath. All that mattered was who was left standing in the end. Bruce had taken those words to heart, and she should be glad that he was learning.

So why was it she felt as if a knife had struck her straight through the heart? The boy taken her advice, and she was always right. She should be feeling proud to have influenced him in some way. Why did she feel that instead of improve him she had tainted him? Why did she feel that instead of helping she had only hurt him?

She tried shaking her had of the thoughts. Big deal, he played a bit rougher with his butler and he was learning to be mean. She had taught him some golden rules of the streets, and he was applying them in his training. So what if it had stripped a little bit of the nice kid she knew, the streets would do that anyway! You either did what was needed to survive or you didn't survive.

_But is that ruthlessness? _The question came in her head. She hated herself for asking the question, as she knew the answer. She may not have been properly educated in the traditional sense, but she knew what ruthless really was, and it wasn't most people on the street. Those who had mastered the art of ruthlessness were usually the rich and greedy. True, the muggers and mob on the street were ruthless, but were most of the kids she knew? They just did what was necessary to live, nothing more.

So he wasn't cut out for life on the street, so what? At least he actually cared, and wanted to help those in need. He had supplied clothes to the orphans of Gotham after the child trafficking incident, and was now giving her a good place to sleep, if only for the time being. The boy had glimpsed how dark the streets of Gotham were, and he was now trying to bring a little light.

Selena had been so deep in thought that she hadn't noticed Alfred's stern rebuke of the boy, although she did hear the words 'lairy little mynx' before he went inside to get some water for himself and the boy. Bruce had sat down against one of the pillars, clumsily trying to remove the gloves from his hands. She knew what she had to do and, with a deep sigh, began her descent from the roof of Wayne manor. Sliding down gracefully on the slopes of the rooftop and gaining purchase on the little nooks in the brick walls. She landed on the ground in her typical cat-like fashion, and began to saunter over to the boy, who was still having difficulty with his gloves. He never heard the girl approaching him from the side.

"You're getting better." She began, startling Bruce. She let a small half smile crease her lips, as she enjoyed getting the drop on him.

He paused at first, still a little startled by how quiet the girl was."Y-you were watching?" He asked tentatively, squirming a bit. Cat had to suppress a giggle; she loved making him squirm, and it seemed so easy to make him uncomfortable.

" Uh-huh," she replied, stopping to stand over the boy, who went back at trying to untie his gloves. Raising a brow, she stated," Ya know, it helps to have fingers free to untie knots, not giant mitts, right?" She said, wiggling her fingers in front of him.

Bruce let a short laugh escape him, letting himself be amused by the girls observation of his current predicament. How did Alfred get his gloves off so easily, he wondered.

A few seconds passed, and with a roll of her eyes, Cat knelt down to the boys level." Here," she said,"Clearly, in your helpless and fragile state, you are unable to untie a knot." She said this all with a mock air of sophistication as she took his gloved hands in hers and began to untie them.

For a moment, there was just an awkward silence. She knew what she wanted to say, and she had the opportunity to say it. And yet the words would not come out of her mouth as she fumbled with the knots on the boys gloves, slowly loosing it from his hand. She began to work on the other when he spoke.

"You saw Alfred get upset?" The question was an odd one, not due to it's topic but in it's delivery. He seemed... confused, like he wasn't sure of what to think about the reaction of his butler. He had wanted to train like she had demanded him, and yet a part of him was pained with guilt, and another that told him he should have been proud.

She paused for a moment,"Yeah." Was all she could reply at the moment.

"I thought I was doing what I was supposed to do!" He continued, frustration touching his voice," I can't afford to wait until someone is ready in a real fight."

Selena looked him in the eye."But you're not in a real fight." She countered," You're just sparring with your butler."

The boy shook his head."It doesn't matter," He replied."If I don't train myself now I won't be ready when a real fight comes.

She narrowed her eyes at the boy, which he knew was a sign that she was going to say something quite stinging."You think that just because you are willing to beat up your butler means you'll make it in a fight?" She pointed to somewhere beyond the walls, shaking her head."The people who will fight you out there won't care about that, or about how mean you can get. They will kill you, and no amount of meanness will keep you alive."

Bruce raised a brow at her," But you said-"

"I know what I said!" She snapped suddenly, causing him to recoil back into the wall. Her face went red at her little out burst, but she continued nonetheless."Just because I say something doesn't make it gospel, alright?" Bruce was staring wide eyed at the girl, clearly surprised by her sudden fierceness. She bit her lip, and took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she thought about the words she wanted to say."Kids on the street can be rough, it's true. We have to be to survive." She saw Bruce take a breath, about to reply, but she stopped him before he could." But, that does not mean that they are ruthless or even mean. It just means they have to do things... different."

Bruce blinked."Different?"

Selena nodded," Yeah, different." She continued,"We don't have money, so we have to be smart and learn to pick our fights carefully. We steal from those who have more thank enough so those who don't have anything can eat. That's desperate, not ruthless." She paused." You wanna know what ruthless really is?"

The boy hesitated, and Cat answered before he could reply."When the rich take money from the pockets of everyone, including those who don't have much, just to line their own pockets? That's ruthless," She narrowed her eyes at Bruce once more," and I'm sure you of all people have seen that happen."

Bruce lowered his eyes and nodded, recalling his digging into the files of Wayne Industries and speaking with the workers. Even his parents company was not free of corruption, something he would have to remedy when he could.

She continued "Or when kids are sent to juvie for being homeless and having to steal just to survive, and then call it tough love? That's ruthless." She inched a little closer to his face, her green eyes piercing Bruce's very soul," Or shooting a boys parents right in front of him and then crooked cops and politicians sweep it under the rug as if it's been solved? That's ruthless." There was a change in the boys eyes she saw, a flash of an emotion she did not have time to read before it changed back."That's not us street kids, and I know that it's not you. You care, and that's not what has to change just so you can survive on the streets."

The boy swallowed hard as she came closer to his face, her cheek brushing against his as she whispered in his ear." And even if it was, I would rather it didn't change at all." The boy shuddered as he felt her breath on his ear, then stiffened as she gave him a kiss on the cheek. She pulled back, his face cupped in her hand as she smiled a smile that made the boy glad he was sitting.

"Thank you." Was that Bruce could muster.

She slowly pulled her hand from the boys face, reveling in her control over him even as she told him something she was quite proud to say. She then rose to her feet and her warm smile turned into a mischievous one." Bet you can't catch me."

Caught off guard by the sudden remark, Bruce looked at her blankly for a moment."What?"

Cat simply crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, S_illy boy, s_he thought."I said, I'll bet you can't catch me."

There was a look of challenge in the girls eyes and voice. The words finally sunk into him, and he raised a brow." I might be able to, but why would I wan-." _Click. _That was what happened as he put together the events from this morning with how she was acting now, and the challenge and possible reward of her capture.

Selena nearly died laughing as she saw the realization dawn in the boys eyes, before she took off at a run to their hedges behind the manor, leaving Bruce in the dust. The boy was stunned for a moment before jumping to his feet and taking off after her, the thoughts of Alfred returning with water leaving his head entirely.

They had no idea that someone had been eavesdropping almost the entire time, as a man with two tall glasses of iced water stepped out onto the veranda and watched his young master chasing the girl. He had heard the girl talk with Bruce, and had been surprised by what she had to say. Rather than trying to usurp him and say he was a 'fuddy-duddy', she had reinforced his point he had made with the lad. Even when she was the cause of trouble, she still managed to wriggle into the butlers heart in one manner or another.

Smiling as they disappeared into the maze, he took a long draft from one of the glasses, before looking back out at the rows of hedges.

"Good hunting, master Bruce."

**Don't this just hit you in the feels? Leave a review and let me know what ya think. If you love it, let me know! If you hate it, please, flame responsibly ;)**


	3. No heroes

**Wow, I am very surprised by how popular this story has gotten. Thank you all so much for your kind words! I have had this story up for about two weeks and already it is my third most viewed story. Unfortunately, this will be my last update for another week and a half or so. I am visiting some relatives here soon, so I won't be writing in that time. Fret not, though, for I shall resume writing upon my return, and probably with another Bat/Cat story.**

**That being said, let's rock!**

Harvey Bullock was dead.

Well, as good as dead, anyway. Either way he went, he knew he couldn't escape this fate. He was going to die because of one man.

James Gordon.

He knew the guy was trouble from the start. Everyone else in Gotham knew how the game went; play along to get along. Did it involve getting your hands dirty? For sure. But taking out the trash was better than being the trash taken out. The rest of the force got it, but no, not Jimbo. Not mister white knight, who had just one job, and screwed it up. Now, Bullock had to think through his options:

He could kill Jim and bring his body to Falcone, begging for his life and hope for the best. Falcone was a ruthless man, but sometimes one could appeal to his better nature and obtain mercy. Still, that was a stretch at best and pathetic at worst. He would most likely have him killed anyway, and if not him then Fish would definitely have a go at them, permission from Falcone or not.

That made option number two far more appealing, which was skip town. Not that macho, for sure, but it did have an air of safety surrounding it. He would take what he needed, pack his things in his car, and be gone from the city. Unfortunately, there weren't many in the mob who did not know what Bullocks car looked like or his license number, due to how much he had to deal with Fish and the like over the years. He may evade for a while, but he'd be found, and killed.

He could hold up in his apartment, load up his pistol, and be prepared and go out with a fight, but he'd still be dead, and the only thing that he would accomplish would be to take a few of Falcones goons with him. Much more appealing than the previous two, yes, but all the same, it felt like a rather empty way to die. And that was something he was trying to avoid in the first place, to no avail.

He thought through all of this in a bar, between taking a swig from his flask to forget that he was screwed and scowling at the bar counter angry that he was screwed.

Why couldn't Jim have just put the bullet in Cobblepots head? He had the proper motivation, and he had the means to do so. He could have saved himself, Bullock, his dame, and probably a good deal of the police department, not to mention civilians who were to be caught in the crossfire of a soon to come war between Falcone and Maroni, at the price of the life of a snitch. Would it have been heroic? No, but this town had no place for heroes. Only the living and the dead.

He frowned. There was that deal with Montoya and Allen, who apparently had a witness at the shooting(although he wasn't sure if that was a fact or something they did to bluff the department). That would have posed a major problem if he had done it, and then they would have had a case against him. The department would have to bend to a certain degree, but still they would fight to keep the integrity of the police department. Under the pressure, the case could end up going state, and even Federal. That meant that everyone, from state police to FBI would be in this one location, and the result would have been war in the streets.

With grim laugh, Harvey shook his head. _Even doing as he's told, he would screw everything up, _Harvey thought, taking another draft from his flask, then stopped suddenly as a thought hit him;

Maybe it's not him that's screwed up.

He cursed himself for the thought, but it didn't stop there. Jim had kept his integrity, though not his mind, and chose not to play along with the mobs little game, the game that the citizens of Gotham had been playing along with for years. Could it be that, rather than Jim being at fault for not playing the game, that the city was at fault for playing the game in the first place?

He tried stopping himself, but the thought kept rolling. Gotham had been the mobs personal pet for as long as he could remember, and they did almost any trick they wanted. So long as they did so, no one got hurt. Now he was seeing that even that facade, a mask to cover up the fact that people do get hurt, and all the wrong people at that. And those who were to uphold them, the politicians and police department? They had traded their job for a little security, and turned a blind eye to the disease that had festered in Gotham. Most became numb, in one manner or another, and those that weren't were too afraid to do anything about it.

Jim wasn't like that. He had seen it and immediately saw the need for justice to be done, albeit a fool hardy manner of doing so. He had done what others in the city wanted desperately to do but lacked the bravery to do it, and they slapped him on the wrist for it. Might it be that they were the ones that needed slapping? Could it be that they should, rather than avoid Jim, take after his example.

Harvey hated where this was going, but he found he couldn't fight it as it began to dawn on him.

He wondered what Jim was up to? Probably planning some crazy plan as a last ditch effort to begin cleansing the city of it's sin, even if it meant his death. He was probably hold up in his dames penthouse, putting together what arsenal he may have and preparing for one final go.

That left just one question for Harvey Bullock.

"So what am I doing _here_?" He found he asked the question aloud. He had never noticed how weary he had grown of this city's crime, and now it came in on him, not in the form of fear, but of determination.

He was a man doomed to death anyway, he thought. Why not go out doing what he had wanted to do when he first joined the Gotham police force?

With one final swig from his flask, he screwed the cap back on and walked out the door. He would die, that was certain, but he might as well side with the good guys if that was the case

This town had no place for heroes.

But what about good cops?

**Well, there she goes. I know what some of ya'll are thinking: "What about the duchess?" Well, I prefer keep where Bullock pulls his... "resources" from a closely guarded secret. I know some were expecting a beginning to a full length story from me around this time, but sadly that's not happening, not soon anyway. I'll stick with one shots and allow time for the story I have in mind to develop(along with the plot of Gotham).**

**However, I can't resist giving little teasers for it, so I may end up writing a one shot that will be connected to the story I have in mind. So be on the look out!**

**Keep rockin'!**


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